


24 Hour Countdown

by Notyourtypicalmermaid



Series: Next Comes Marriage [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Bad Parenting, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Dark Past, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Friendship/Love, In-Laws, M/M, Single Parents, The Night Before The Wedding, pre-wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-22 21:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notyourtypicalmermaid/pseuds/Notyourtypicalmermaid
Summary: It's the day before Buggy and Shanks' wedding and Buggy tries to beat the clock and make amends.





	24 Hour Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter became more emotionally heavy than I planned but I'm pretty happy with it. Please enjoy!

24 hours before his wedding, Buggy woke up with a crick in his neck. 

_ 'Damn, I must've slept on it wrong.' _ He thinks before sitting up, rubbing the hair out of his face. The sun peeks through his drawn curtains, giving the cramped room a haunting glow.

"It must be around 8 by now." He says, glancing at the wooden clock on the end table and is surprised to see that it's only 6:30 am. 

"Well damn, my body won't sleep in even when it could." He says standing up to stretch his sore legs before heading to the bathroom across the hall. He makes quick work of brushing his teeth and combing his tangled hair, washing his face with his favorite scented soap. Once he is certain that he smells like lilacs, he heads outside for his daily jog. 

The farm his grandparents live on is plainer and older than he remembered. When he was a child, it felt like the possibilities of adventure were endless, but now, looking at the dry almost brown grass on the lawn, it feels like a wasteland. The shed where his grandfather's tools are kept is old and falling apart. The stables where his favorite horse Bolt lives in have chipped paint and the fence protecting the house has seen better days. 

The one saving grace is his grandmother's garden. She has a variety of vegetables, fruits, beans and more that is nothing sort of impressive. She spends a good chunk of the morning tending to her precious produce, picking some to sell and saving the rest for dinner. To Buggy, the food she makes could revival the best of chefs, rich in flavor and freshness that only the country can provide. 

He jogs past all of this to the main road, a deserted empty area that is surprisingly peaceful. From there, he can see a blue mountain in the horizon peeking over a valley of luscious green trees. The air is the freshest he's ever smelt next to the aroma of wildflowers in his path. His shoes squeak as he turns a corner into a large open field. 

A city boy by heart, he can't deny the appeal in living tucked away in a comfy, quiet patch of earth like this. _ 'Maybe after we retire, I could live here." _ He thinks, picking up the pace and grinning as his favorite set of sunflowers pass him by. The heat on his face is still pleasant as he makes a U-turn, wiping the sweat off his face. 

When he gets back home, he rushes to take a quick slower, the panic of the day finally setting in. The jog should've eased his nerves but instead reminds him of the long list of things he needs to finish by tomorrow. _ 'My Wedding Day.' _

~ 

Shanks slams his alarm clock after pushing the snooze button three times. He sits up groggily, rubbing his neck and hesitantly opens his eyes in protest. 

"Shanks! Get in here! It's time for breakfast!" His mother shouts out. 

He rises out of bed, feet searching for their slippers before stumbling into the bathroom to start his day. The water feels like ice against his skin when he jumps in the shower, scrubbing the filth from yesterday off his tired body. _ 'Buggy's birthday party was amazing though.'_ He muses as he brushes his teeth. 

Last night was Buggy's 18th birthday, a small-time affair for someone as flashy as him. They had dinner with his friends and sang karaoke for 3 hours straight downtown. Shanks was there to celebrate but was mostly treated as an errand boy photographer, taking pictures of everything and everywhere they went. He didn't mind too much but his back was a little stiff from the cramped karaoke booth they all squeezed into. His hair had some residual glitter in it, from God knows where. _ Yuck. _

After his shower, he heads to the kitchen, feet pattering heavily on the floor. The kitchen feels brighter than usual as Shanks sits to drink his lukewarm coffee. He cringes at the taste, picking up a piece of bacon instead. 

"It would've been hot if you got here when I called you." Barb says. 

"I know, ma. You say that every time."

"And every time you do the same thing." She retorts, sipping her tea. "Your dad is waiting for you so get a move on."

"RIght!" He grabs some pieces of toast, slathering jam on it before heading out the door. 

"Sorry, dad! I overslept." He jumps into the passenger's seat, slamming the door behind him. 

"What's new, Shanks?" He smirks, driving off their gravel driveway. 

The sound of rubber hitting the road is interrupted by Steven's question, "So, are you ready for the big day?" 

"I've been ready." 

"So, you've got everything? The tux and so on?"

"I have to pick that up today. I thought you meant if I was mentally ready." He chuckles, biting his sour toast. 

"Well, I meant that, too. I'm guessing you are?"

"Yep. I just need my tux and haircut and I'll be all set." 

"Excellent." 

~

Buggy puts the finishing touches on his hair before he runs downstairs. 

"Buggy, breakfast is ready!" His grandmother shouts.

"I don't have time, I have to get to my nail appointment." 

"Here, at least grab a biscuit or something."

"Okay, okay." He runs in the kitchen, grabs two buttery biscuits with a slice of cheese and heads out the door in a blue flash.

He heads to his grandpa's pickup truck, flinging his bag in the passenger seat like it's a runaway hostage. The bag bangs loudly against the door but he ignores it in favor of taking a bite of the delicious biscuit. 

The engine roars to life but before he can drive off he hears:

"Buggy, wait!" His grandfather yells, wobbling on his shaky legs. He's practically running which causes Buggy alarm as he stops the car immediately. 

"Grandpa are you okay?" He says, getting out of the car.

"I'm fine. Where are you going?" 

"I'm going to my hair and nail appointment. Do you need anything?" 

"No, no. I'm okay. Let me take you." He says with a slight blush on his wrinkling cheeks. 

"Uh, you sure? It's not a problem."

"Yep. I'll let you drive if you want." He barely finishes the words before he gets in the passenger seat, putting Buggy's items in the back. 

Buggy sighs, suddenly nervous. It's not like his grandfather to be anxious. And it's more than obvious he wants to talk about something... uncomfortable. _ 'Fuck, there goes my peaceful morning.' _

He adjusts the rearview mirror, watching his grandfather from the corner of his eye as he pulls out of the driveway. 

"So, what do you want to talk about grandpa?"

He scoffs. "You're not one to beat around the bush, are you? You must get that from me." He sighs, patting Buggy on the shoulder. 

"I don't like to mince words. It's one of my positive traits, according to Shanks." He laughs, loosening his shoulders. "Is that what you want to talk about...Shanks?" He asks, words simple but tone clearly teasing. "Do you want to know if I have cold feet? Can't tell you how many times people have asked me that. I suppose it's your turn, right?"

"No." He replies simply. Frank rolls down the window, letting the breeze ruffle his grey hair. 

"No?"

"No, that's not what I wanted to talk about." He glances back at Buggy now, an uncomfortable stare that makes Buggy grateful that he has to focus on the road. 

"I want to talk about your mom." 

And there it is. The bomb that he knew would eventually go off. He immediately cringes and his body language is so tense that even a blind person could see it. If he was with anyone else, he would straighten up, pay it cool but here, with his grandfather, there didn't seem to be a point. He knew him too well.

"What about her?" He asks, voice tight. 

"Have you spoken to her?"

"No." 

"Buggy-"

"I've called, grandpa. I've called so many times that I've lost track. She hasn't picked up the phone once nor has she returned any of my messages or texts. She wants nothing to do with me." He grits out, hands shaking on the steering wheel. 

He feels Frank's gaze on him, burning hotter than the August heat. He doesn't dare look back, diligently staring at the road, foot easy on the peddle. 

"No." 

"No what? No, she hasn't returned my calls or no she doesn't give a shit about me?" 

"Don't get snappy with me." He barks, instantly making Buggy shut up. His voice never rose an octave but it is commanding and dominating, filling the car like a hot air balloon; unescapable. 

He can barely see the road at this point, tears blocking his view. He sniffles, confused and embarrassed.

"Your mother does love you, Buggy. If there's one thing I know, it's that." 

He says nothing in response. 

"She just wants the best for you." 

"She has a terrible way of showing it." He spits out bitterly, slowing the car. The last thing he needs is a car accident. 

"Buggy, pull over for a second."

"Grandpa, I-"

"I know you have your appointment, but this is important, Buggy...It's about your dad." 

He clenches the steering wheel, heart racing through his chest. "I don't know if I'm ready to hear this."

"I think you are." Franks says, voice warm and confident.

Once parked, Frank pulls Buggy's hand off the steering wheel willing him to look at him. 

"Your mother got pregnant when she was a little older than you, maybe 20." 

"21." He nods.

"Well, it wasn't an easy pregnancy. It was a shock to everyone and she was pretty stressed. Your grandma and her would fight constantly and I...I was just as angry and heartbroken." He sighs.

"Your dad wanted to do the right thing so he proposed, something your grandma and I were 100% behind. It didn't seem like they were madly in love but we worried about the gossip and what the town would say. Things like that, you know." He glances at Buggy. "Times were different back then, Buggy. You didn't just have a child out of wedlock, you got married first. Any other option was not acceptable." 

"Yeah, I know." He nods, leaning into the headrest. "It's still a small town where people gossip. I've heard my name tons of times just this month alone."

"So you know what I mean." 

"Yeah, grandpa. I-I do." He thinks about Shanks and how their relationship wasn't so easily accepted a few years ago. Since then, people have backed off and moved on but the sting of those slurs since haunts Buggy at times. 

Frank pats his back in understanding.

"Well, a few weeks later, they married and moved onto the farm to get on their feet. That time was...awkward but not bad. Patch was good on his word and got a job quickly, moving them out not too long after that." He rubs his chin as if to summon the missing pieces from his memory. 

Buggy watches him closely, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting comfortable.

"I helped them move into an apartment, a pile of crap but the best they could do, I suppose." He chuckles. "Your mom tried to decorate it the best she could but you can only do so much with so little. They seemed happy, ready for their new life to begin." His smile falters. "But, I didn't know how toxic their relationship was." 

Buggy frowns shifting in his seat.

"Your dad got into some gambling, poker I think or maybe it was blackjack. I'm not sure but whatever he did lead to debt which to lead to-." 

"Fighting." Buggy mumbled. 

"Right, fighting. 

"How much debt?" 

"Possibly a few grand; enough debt for your mother to have to quit school and get a job at the gas station. I even remember the striped uniform she had to wear." He says. "It broke her heart to quit." 

"Don't I know it." Buggy mumbled. "School was everything to her. Still is." He looks out the window, watching an old woman unload her groceries into her tattered pick up truck.

"To you too." 

"To me too." He smiles. Even if his mother didn't instill the importance of school into him, he still had a love for learning. Getting straight As was no accident.

"Buggy...did you know that your dad is bipolar?"

"What?"

"Your dad is bipolar, Buggs." Buggy looks at him like he grew three heads. "We didn't know what it was called at the time but it was definitely there. We just couldn't pinpoint what it was or what to call it. The mood swings, the tantrums, the way he would fly from one idea to the next in a heartbeat. So erratic. "

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"One of the doctors diagnosed him, after his arrest and it was practically a breeze for your mom to get full custody. And-" 

"Grandpa! Stop for a second." Buggy said, grabbing his grandfather's arm. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Frank looked back at him with a glazy gleam in his eye, like he was far away in another time. "It's time you knew. Maybe this isn't the best time, maybe I'm not the best person to explain it but it has to be said."

"You just threw a ton of information at me. Can you slow down?" Buggy asks, tapping the window. Frank takes a deep breath before nodding.

"Back then, there were some...um...domestic abuse problems in their marriage. On both ends. She'd throw a punch and he'd throw one right back. She'd yell, he'd yell even louder. It was almost like a contest between them; some twisted game." He says, disgusted. "I'd ask Lark, 'Why don't you leave him? If he treats you so bad?' And she'd say, 'He's all I got.' or some such nonsense." He stretches, leaning his arm out the open window. "I never understood it, still don't. Maybe you were too young to remember, but-"

"I remember the fighting." He whispers. "It was like, like thunder and lightning, one trying to outshine the other." He tugs at his shirt. "But I didn't know he got arrested." 

"Oh, yeah. At least once or twice. A neighbor poking their head in, calling the cops for the ruckus they heard. Those apartments had thin walls you know." 

"And ma? Did she ever get arrested?" 

"No. His noise often drowned hers out. Plus, you were a baby then; the chances were slim from them to separate a baby from its mother." 

Buggy huffs, shifting in his seat. "A baby? I was six maybe seven when he left." 

Franks rubs his chin. 

"He was diagnosed when I was a baby?" Frank nods. "Why am I just hearing about this? This is crazy, grandpa." 

Frank smiles softly, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. "She could've gotten custody then but wanted to wait it out, see if it got better. If he'd mellow out, but, yeah, you know how that went."

Buggy sighs, leaning against the headrest in confusion. So much of this was new to him. "So you're saying that they divorced because he's bipolar? Not because he was, excuse me, _ is _ a controlling, lazy, unreliable asshole?" __

_ __ _

_ __ _

"I think that's part of it, too." Frank replied, an angry twitch in his eyebrow. "And stop cursing. It's not very becoming." 

"Sorry." He mumbled. "But is that supposed to explain everything? Why he's never around? Why he never calls? Why mom had to do everything all these years? Is that supposed to be his excuse to why he's missed most of my birthdays, holidays or any other occasion that screams 'family'? 

He practically yelling now, angry tears at the corner of his eyes. He knows he shouldn't talk to his grandfather like this, it's not his fault but he wants to blame someone, something for this lousy deck of cards he's been given.

"I never said the truth would make things easier, Buggy. But you're an adult now and I think it's fair for you to know." He states. 

"Hmmm, okay. Thanks, grandpa. That's great, fantastic. I'm over the moon." He huffed, grabbing the keys to put in the ignition. "I feel fulfilled like all of my questions have been answered." He snipes sarcastically.

"Buggy, they are flawed people just like you and me. They made mistakes, they both did but you didn't turn out so bad, did you?" His smile tightens the wrinkles on his face like he hasn't exercised those muscles in a while. Yet, it makes him look softer, younger.

"Grandpa, I... sure. I'm awesome."

"You are. Whether you believe it or not. I'm proud of you." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really. And your grandma is too." He clasps Buggy's shoulders, giving him that odd smile again. "You've got a lot on your plate right now but I trust you'll be just fine. You got it in you." 

"Thanks, grandpa." This time he says it with meaning instead of sarcasm. _ 'Maybe grandpa's right. I turned out okay.' _

_ __ _

"Buggy, I can't say much about your dad but I do know your mother loves you. She isn't the best at showing it, hell, saying it isn't her forte either." He chuckles with no joy in the sound. "But you should reach out to her. Not just a phone call or text, I mean go see her, face to face." 

"What makes you think she'll want to see me?" He rubs his neck, feeling the sun burn his exposed neck.

"Because...because she's a part of me, stubborn as hell, which... is a part of you, too. I know she wants to see you. I'm sure of it."

Buggy shakes his head, grasping it in his hands. He looks out the window, combing his hair with his fingers.

"Grandpa, I- I can't guarantee that, that things can go back to how they were before. She-" Buggy chokes, flashes of her nails digging into his skin ping into his mind like an electric shock. 

"What is it?" He asks, brown eyes boring into Buggy's. 

"I can't tell you." 

"May I ask why?" 

"Because I'm not ready to talk about it. I may never be ready to talk about it." 

"Did something happen between you two?"

Buggy looks at him before nodding his head.

Frank looks at him wearyingly, like he wants to see through him but can't. Not pushing the matter further, he says: 

"Ok, but if you want to talk about it... you know the rest." Buggy nods again. "Let me drive you the rest of the way." 

"Ok." He says softly, opening the door. For him, the revelation was refreshing yet... emotionally not much had changed. Sure, it gave a better insight into who his parents are but it only opened a wound instead of filling one. A part of him still hadn't forgiven his mother for the...incident and no amount of tragic past could make him forget that. Yet, a small part of ached, missing her, missing their home and life together. He still had his stuff at her house, maybe it really was time for a visit. He sighs as he settles into the passenger's seat, a headache easily forming. He slouches and ignores each car that passes him by, eyes unfocused. 

~

"That'll be $19.79." Shanks says. "Do you want to pay with cash or card?"

"Card is fine." The stocky customer replies, reaching for his wallet. Shanks rings him up quickly, anxiously closing the cash register. 

"Dad, that was the last one!" 

"Okay, son. See you later!" 

Shanks grabs his keys, walking briskly to his car. He has about 2 hours before he needs to be home for dinner. They have a special dinner planned with Buggy and his grandparents, a sort of in-law rehearsal dinner if you will. 

"Thanks, dad. I'll be back in 40 or so to pick you up!" He yelled, starting the engine of the car. He drove quickly on the freeway, grateful for the lack of traffic as he pulled into his destination. The bell dings obstreperously as he walks in. 

"Hey, Shanks, come on in." The burly man waves to his barber chair, adjusting his sunglasses. Why he wore sunglasses indoors, Shanks would never know. 

"Thanks, Gaban. Just a trim and shave." 

"Alright, no problem." 

As Gaban got the tools ready, Shanks sits in the barber's chair trying to relax his mind. Work was normal if not a little boring but he got through it. What was really on his mind was the upcoming dinner with his in-laws. He's spoken to them a little bit over the summer but nothing too deep or long. What could he talk to them about? 

"So Shanks, how do you feel? Tomorrow's the big day." 

"I feel great. Just a lot to do is all."

"Oh? No pre-wedding jitters? Impressive." He laughs. "I remember when I got married, I was practically shaking in my boots." 

Shanks smiles. "You ever had dinner with your in-laws?"

"Are you kidding? I have dinner with them at least once a year. It never gets any easier." 

"Really?"

"At least for me. The in-laws don't really like me that much, tell as old as time. Stealing their little girl from them, blah-blah-blah." 

Shanks chuckles as he leans back in the chair. He hears the tap of the razor on the sink, calming his nerves instead of heightening them.

"I have dinner with mine tonight. Sort of like a pre-rehearsal dinner without the rehearsal, you know?" 

"Oh, I know." 

"Any advice? Man to man?" 

Gabon smiles at him, carefully shaving Shanks' beard like an artist paints on a canvas. "Man to man, huh? It's still hard hearing that from you. I remember you waddling in here in your diapers. Your old man had to pull your off the seats so you wouldn't crack your head" He laughs joyfully. "You couldn't sit down for shit." 

"Oh, God. Must we go down that road?" He laughed. "I'm totally serious right now." 

"Okay, okay. Hmm, I've heard the key is to let them talk about themselves. Everybody likes talking about themselves, right? 

"Hmm, possibly. They're Buggy's grandparents though, from the country. They're more like listening kind of people. I haven't heard either of them say more than a few words at a time, to be honest. Especially Buggy's grandpa." 

"Oh? You didn't say it was older in-laws. Talk about the country, or the farm or something that interests them." 

"Ok. What about word games or conversation games?"

"Are they game kind of people?" 

"I have no idea." Shanks whines, snapping in his fingers in revelation. "Cooking! Everyone likes food. We can talk about recipes or something?" 

"Are you serious?" Gabon snorts, shaking his head. 

"Listen, I'm desperate here! I need to make an impression." 

"Well, food isn't a bad topic, per se. Just... don't worry about it so much, Shanks. Just be-"

"Please don't say, 'just be yourself.' That's the corniest line in existence and that will not help me win over my in-laws." 

"Well, gee Shanks. That's all I got." Gabon laughs, rising his razor. "If you flail, somebody else will have your back. Buggy probably but your mom is a smooth talker too." 

"God, I hope you're right." 

~

When Buggy gets to his mother's house, he's sweating bullets. He pulls at his shirt, desperately trying to air it out before knocking on the door. There's some sweat stains there but if he's lucky she won't notice. _ Like hell, of course, she'll notice. _

_ __ _

_ __ _

"I'll be over here Buggy if you need me!" His grandpa yells, parking on the side of the road. Despite his monotone, it gives Buggy the strength to knock more forcefully on the door. 

Silence. 

He knocks again, glancing at his mother's car parked in the garage. _ "She's definitely here." _

__

__

He listens again but no footsteps can be heard. He wants to bite his nails but resists since they're newly polished and trimmed for the wedding. _'The wedding. Fuck, I should be thinking about that but here I am like a fool trying to-' _

The door opens suddenly and his mother's bright hair almost blinds him. "Buggy?" She asks like it isn't obvious. Like she doesn't know who her only son is. 

"It's me." He replies, putting his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground. "I wanted to talk to you. You know, if you have a minute." 

"S-sure." She whispers, opening the door wider. Buggy looks at Frank, who nods in response. "Your grandpa is here?" She says, closing the door. 

"He's been helping out, driving me around town. " He leaves 'for the wedding' out, letting it hang pitifully in the air. 

"Oh, I see. I'm guessing you're getting along nicely then." She says, heading to the kitchen. She grabs a teapot, slowly filling it with water. 

"We get along fine." He replies, sitting at the kitchen table. He looks at the chipped wood and a wave of nostalgia hits him full force but he ignores it. "I don't have a lot of time, mom. I-I wanted to ask if you reconsidered coming to the wedding." 

"Do you want some tea?" 

He ignores her. "It's tomorrow and I know you know because you were the first person I sent an invitation to. It was a blue and red envelope, there's no way you could miss it." 

"I have some juice if you want any. Orange? Grapefruit?" She replies not missing a beat. 

"So, we're doing this, huh? You can't even answer a simple question now? You can just say so no, okay? But say something." 

She stares at him, thumping her mug on her counter. 

"I'm still thinking about it." She replies, tone crisp. "Honestly, I haven't made a decision about it yet. And to be frank, you've wasted your time coming over here if you think I'll give you my blessing. Because my mind has not changed about this ridiculous marriage that you-" 

"Your blessing? I have **never ** asked for that!" 

"Oh, please, Buggy. I can see it in your eyes. You really think you came over here the day before your wedding because you miss me all of sudden? No, you want approval." 

Buggy clasps his hands together, praying to a god he doesn't believe in for patience. "You know what, you're mostly right. I came over here because I did want your blessing. Your encouragement. Maybe I thought for a crazy second that you changed your mind and would support me on the biggest day of my life...but I was wrong. I can't say I'm surprised." He says, saying each word like a curse. "But, since we're being honest, I actually did miss you, ma. I've thought about you every day since you've kicked me out. And not always out of anger either, but worry. I've worried about you yet I've hated that I've worried about you. I miss spending time with you even when it was just us watching crappy reality shows on the couch." He says, gesturing to the living room. 

"And I just didn't come over here because of my wedding. Grandpa told me about dad."

She looks at him, shell-shocked before sitting clumsily down in her chair.

"What exactly did he tell you?" 

Buggy tells her, carefully watching her facial expressions with each sentence.

"He said all of that?" She whispered, turning to the window. 

"Did you not want me to know?" 

"I thought I had more time." 

"Mom, why was it such a secret?"

She looks at him then. "It's not so much me, but him. He didn't want you to know because, I guess, he didn't want to be seen as mentally ill." She takes a deep sigh. "It took a lot of resistance for him to even see a doctor and when they gave him the diagnosis, it took him even longer to believe it. Hell, I didn't want to believe it."

She brings two steaming cups of tea to the table, placing Buggy's favorite green mug in front of him. "When I met your dad he was full of bravado and big dreams. He could sell water to a fish, he was that confident." She smiles, staring wistfully in her cup. "It's no wonder how we fell in love and...had you." She looks at Buggy then, fingers twitching likes she wants to reach out but thinks better of it. 

"Of course, things changed when reality hit; work, bills and so on. Patch got discouraged, angry when the money wasn't coming in like he thought it would. Those were tough times. Granted, I guess it was always tough." She sips her tea. "And since we were so young, we didn't really have a backup plan, sure as hell didn't know what we were doing when raising you." 

"I turned out alright." Buggy says, tracing his fingers over the wood. 

"Yeah, somehow you did." She smiles. "Buggy...promise me you won't lose yourself in your marriage. Stick to your goals, your dreams, and your ambitions. Don't let Shanks discourage you." 

He nods before speaking, "Is that why you hate him so much? He got in the way of your dreams?" 

"I don't hate your father, Buggy. I resent him, sure, for leaving you and us behind. But hate? No. But I can't say there's love there either." 

"I get that." 

The silence is awkward but Buggy lavishes it, looking around his childhood home. 

"I'd like to get some of things, since I'm here."

She startles, "Uh, sure. Take what you can." 

Buggy gulps the rest of his tea before heading up the stairs. 

"Where will ya'll be living? Not your grandparent's house I hope." 

Buggy chuckles, "No, no. We got an apartment off-campus. Maybe 20 or so minutes away. Got a nice deal through a family friend of Shanks. Should be moving in after the honeymoon." 

"I see." She looks away. "Good for you." 

His smile falters but smirks, "Thanks, mom." 

~

When Shanks gets home, it's in a flurry of red as he rushes to his bedroom. 

"Shanks, they'll be here any minute, where the hell have you been?!" His mother yells from the kitchen. 

"I took care of some business. I'll be out in a minute!" He screams before yanking his closet open, searching for his dinner attire. He carefully chose a pair of khaki slacks with a black button-up. His tie is a sleek silver that's noticeable but tasteful. 

He hears the doorbell ring and curses, rushing to his bathroom for his deodorant. He's brushing his teeth when he hears a gentle knock on the door. 

"Come in." He warbles, spitting the toothpaste out. 

"So, you're still getting ready, Red-Hair?" Buggy grins, closing the door behind him. "Figures you'd be late even in your own damn house." He leans against the doorframe, laughter dancing in his eyes.

"Buggy?" He says, wiping his mouth. "Hey, babe. You look amazing." 

And he does. He's wearing a pair of black slacks pressed to perfection, a navy blue collared shirt that fits just right. His engagement ring shines brightly against his pale skin and his hair is pulled back in a classic bun. He's not wearing his favorite red lipstick but instead a soft nude color that almost matches his skin tone. He looks simple but elegant. 

"Thanks. So do you. I like your shirt but let me straighten it up." He smoothes his hands over the creases on Shanks' shoulders, a soft grin on his face. 

"You look awfully happy. Something grand must be going on in your life." Shanks smirks. 

"It's all peaches and cream, actually." He grins back. "Also, I saw my mom today."

"Woah."

"I know, it was...refreshing. Put some things in perspective." 

"Really? That's great!" He hugs Buggy swiftly. 

"Hey, hey don't mess up my clothes." He says, pulling Shanks' ear. 

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just happy for you. Does that mean she's coming to the wedding?"

Buggy sighs, "That I have no idea, she doesn't even know." 

"Oh. Damn, I'm sorry." 

"But you wanna something?" He pull holds Shanks' hands in his, "I'm gonna be okay. If she comes, great! If she doesn't come, I'll survive. I've survived worse." 

Shanks smiles in response, "That's awfully mature of you. You're sure you're okay?" 

He looks to the ceiling like he did the last time he was in Shanks' room all those months ago. "Yeah, I think so." 

~ 

The table was packed with food; mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade rolls, fish and a larger pitcher of lemonade in the center, decorating the table beautifully. The lights were dimmed, giving the room a soft, pleasant glow.

"It looks great here! You really outdid yourself, Barb." Buggy said, pulling out his grandmother's chair. 

"I didn't do it alone, I appreciate the rolls and pound cake, Amelia. You didn't have to bring anything, you're a guest." Barb says, adding a vase of flowers to the mix.

"Nonsense. Our boys are getting married, we should've bought some meat too, right Frank?" She asks, rolling her eyes when her husband grunts in reply. 

"You've done more than enough. I saw the centerpieces and they look fantastic. They are going to look great in the backyard tomorrow." She replies, sitting down. 

"It was nothing. Buggy did most of the work anyway, he's picky like that." 

"Hey, I had a vision." Buggy blushes, grabbing a dinner roll. He sees Shanks wink at him but he ignores him in favor of pouring lemonade for the table. "And Shanks helped too. Right, Red-Hair?" 

"Uh, yeah. I helped with the invitations mostly." He blushes, scooping some mashed potatoes onto his mother's plate. 

"He's helped cook too," Stevens says, clasping Shanks on the back. "His barbeque skills have vastly improved. I don't think anyone will know the difference between mine and his." 

"Oh, dad. You exaggerate." He laughs. 

"No, I'm serious." Steven looks at the Amelia and Frank teasingly, "Shanks used to be a terrible cook. I mean God-awful. Couldn't boil water." 

"Dad, really? I wasn't that bad." He flusters, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Yeah, you were son." Barb chimes in, seasoning her fish. "You couldn't crack an egg to save your life. And his pancakes? My goodness, always burnt!" 

Buggy laughs. "I didn't know it was that bad. Tell me more." 

"Well, Shanks always had a bad habit of..." 

~

"Phew, that was some meal. I am stuffed." Buggy sighs, patting his bulging stomach.

"Yeah, you really packed it on." Shanks says, leaning against the big oak tree. The night was a little cool but Shanks didn't mind as he watched the stars above. 

"Are you saying I'm fat, Red-Hair?" He pokes Shanks' sides until he gets a smile on his fiance's grumpy face. "Are you mad that we made fun of you all night?" 

"What do you think?" He says, poking Buggy back. 

"You know we were teasing. Plus, it loosened my grandparent's up real nice. Isn't that what you wanted?" He mocks, snuggling onto Shanks's side. 

"Your grandma is fine, it's your grandpa that hates me." 

Buggy smirks, resting his head on Shanks' cold shoulder. "Actually, he doesn't. He thinks you're a good guy, I mean you're head is always in the clouds, but he thinks you're decent." 

"Is that what he thinks or what you think?" He says, grumpily.

"Two things can be true at the same time."

Shanks sighs loudly and dramatically before pulling Buggy into a hug. He caresses his back gently, memorizing the curve of his almost-husband's back, trailing his finger lightly across his covered skin. 

"You alright, Red-Hair? You're awfully quiet." He says, leaning deeper into the hug. He holds Shanks' back too, gripping tightly, sure to wrinkle his nicely pressed shirt. 

"Just anxious, is all. Tired too." He whispers in Buggy's ear. 

Buggy grins, eyes drooping, "I feel like you've been ready forever. What happens after tomorrow? Will you still be so anxious?" 

Shanks pulls back to touch Buggy's face, tracing the back of his neck. "I don't know. Probably. There's always something more I want with you." 

"Oh, God. Shut up." Buggy laughs, slapping his arm. "You never cut it out, do you?"

Shanks laughs merrily, wrapping his arms around Buggy's waist. He looks at the stars again, stunned by their clarity.

They both know he doesn't have to say 'yes' to that. It was always implied.

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will definitely be the wedding and possibly the honeymoon, too. Thanks for reading!


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